Already Over
by ItachiEnvy
Summary: Another chapter in the Zemyx oneshots.A late night visitor and questions no one wants to hear the answers to.Takes place right before my Nobodies Dont Cry, but not necessary to understand the plots.Read and Review!


**Hey, its ItachiEnvy, back with another Zemyx. This one ties in with my other ones, but it isn't necessary to read the others to understand it. Reviews make me very happy, and so do favs! Flames....well, I wouldn't trust those with a 15 year old pyromaniac...Enjoy!**

Summery:A late night visitor, and questions better left unanswered. Who's to say its fake when it _feels_ real, and who's to say those who can't feel need to?

-OoO-

He awoke to the feeling of someone running their fingers gently through his hair.

The touch was odd; foreign, but welcome. The comfort the soft caresses and strokes brought lulled him to a sense of half-alertness, so different from the sharp consciousness normally felt when breaching the sanction of his light sleep.

He nuzzled his head back into the warm hand, craving more of the sensation. He heard a light chuckle, adding to the pleasant fogginess within his mind.

The analytical, yet still suppressed, half of his senses screamed muted warnings, alarmed instincts telling him to be wary, that the stranger was too close. The hand continued, grazing so tenderly made him ignore all signals. His body needed the loving brushes.

"Your hair is really soft...and the color is so pretty." The melodious voice softly whispered,more to itself than the one it was addressing. The flashing warnings silenced at the sound.

He recognized that murmur.

He sighed. The voice above him a light clearing the fog from his blank mind, despite his internal loathing to part with the warm blanket it made.

He cracked an icy blue-gray eye, squinting in the complete darkness surrounding himself, glancing around. He could almost feel the warm body sitting behind him smile at his actions. The slim moon cast a shallow light in the darkened room.

"Hey".  
"What time is it?" He was used to these visits. He even welcomed them. Anything to escape the uniformity of their seemingly meaningless false-existences. The monotony at times was maddening.

"A little past four. Are you mad?" The almost child-like voice responded, the 'emotion' flowing off each word.  
"Am I ever?"

The chuckle sounded again, now less restrained than before. A hand began to lazily repeat its journey through his silvery-blue locks. A purr of contentment escaped the normally detached teen. He had been without meaningful physical contact for so long. He turned his horizontal body to face the still sitting person. The wane moonlight reflected in the blue-green eyes, as their owner gave a small smile.

Demyx. It was always Demyx.

How long had it been since they began these late-night visits? Three months? Four? It had all started after that infantile game they had played, and the blur of events that followed it.

A smirk slid itself onto his full lips, the memory replaying inside his mind.

Demyx cocked his head, his glance inquiring the change in expression. Zexion only shook his head, it was nothing of importance right now. They were both quiet.

Demyx broke the silence.

"How long do you think this will last?" the question was whispered, none of the characteristic feeling in his voice.

The silence returned, neither knowing the answer.

Neither _wanted_ to know. They were 'happy' with their system, it felt natural.

It felt _real_.

He closed his eyes, sighing at his foolishness. They did not feel, this was purely lust. Nothing more, nothing less. And they both knew it.

"I'm going on a mission tomorrow. Collection."

His eyes jolted open at the statement. Demyx rarely did missions other than simple reconnaissance...

"It's suppose to be filled with heartless."

Zexion's breathing halted. The musician could not fight hordes. He wasn't powerful enough.

Again the silence permeated the room. The intent of Demyx's news was thick and suffocating to the silver-haired teen. A lump had formed in his throat.

He didn't want to lose this, this almost _feeling_ that Demyx had brought him. He needed to be alone. He couldn't deal with all of these thoughts right now.

"You'll be fine. We'll talk tomorrow," this was Zexion's normal parting phrase, never a good-bye. The blond teen slowly stood, bending down to brush his lips against the Schemer's.

"I'll be waiting."

Demyx turned, gloved hand already forming a portal as he spoke. Stepping through, he vanished, mumbling under his breath.

He was gone.

Zexion sat up, his hand running through his hair, the warmth already missing, feeling the emptiness return to his chest.

"Me too."

-OoO-

**Now wasn't that depressing? Any guesses as to what Demyx mumbled? Please review and thanks for reading!**

P.S. I thought of this in the shower....my mind is really weird....


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